SatAM Season 3 Post Doomsday
by Winnie C. Hedgehog
Summary: The cliffhanger from Sonic the Hedgehog's SatAM final episodes left many questions unaddressed. This attempts to do so. Join Sonic and the Freedom Fighters in the days Post-Doomsday, as they face the Brave New World of Lord Sniv, Naugus, and The Unknown.
1. Ep27: Firework Fanfare

And if you need a real cheap incentive to read & review umm... yes, I made Ari into a slobbering drunk.. XD (haha, j/k- I didn't make this stupid like that, I swear to god.) But he is kinda OOC with the drunkenness here, so errmmm... yesh, enjoy that.. XD.

Pause for Disclaimer--

This literary work of fanfiction belongs to its author and may not be used for profit without the notified permission of the specified author. The characters, settings, references and given background mentioned, and, or depicted, aside from the happenings of the plot itself, is the property of the following- Archie Comics, SEGA Corporation and DiC Productions and any other organizations not mentioned in these listings possessing ownership of property that is related to _Sonic the Hedgehog_. All other terms stated in Title 17 of the U.S. Code concerning copyright laws apply.

_- - _

SatAM  
The Third Season

_- - -_

Part One  
_Post-Doomsday  
__- Firework Fanfare & Crescendo -_

by  
Alexandra Lee Churchill  
aka  
Winnie C. Hedgehog

"It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in  
between."  
-Diane Ackerman, _A Natural History of the Senses_.

"Why wilderness? Because we like the taste of freedom; because we like the smell of danger."  
-Edward Abbey, _Beyond the Wall_

"We can't run from ourselves, our destiny chooses us."  
-Professor Petrovsky, _Rounders._

Post-Doomsday  
_- Firework Fanfare & Crescendo -_

"You can learn little from victory. You can learn everything from defeat."  
-_Christy Mathewson_

Electrified cracks and fizzes, shrieking whirs and spastic lights and the resonant, earth_-_quaking tremors beneath the vibrant, myriad explosions from the firework display overhead_-_ it all left the midnight darkness awake and trembling. Victorious roars, cries, howls and triumphant cheering beside commending hoorahs could be heard throughout the festive and massively_-_overcrowded Knothole square.

There was the haze of thriving enthusiasm that had enlivened the entire village_-_ a celebratory miasma of intoxicating heaviness and permeating strength. Laughing, chanting, feasting and drinking, dancing, singing and carefree chat_-_ everything that had been for too_-_long dismissed for more important matters_-_ they reveled in tonight.

They felt the dazed, contented sense of finally living some long_-_sought dream that they could only have barely envisioned some months ago; the slow realization that their dream had been realized.

It had been their united dream, the ultimate dream. An eleven year old dream_-_ the freeing of Mobius from under the ruling dictatorship, that maniacal tyrant who had held Robotropolis, their former beloved capital city Mobotropolis, and all of Mobius for over ten years. The outlandish enemy, the human, Julian, had downtrodden and brutalized the Mobians for over a decade.

Now he lay under the smoking ruins of his dark and sinister Robotropolis.

And the brave new world lay ahead for them to reclaim as theirs.

But for tonight, Knothole, small and humble hosted hundreds for the celebrations.

They had come from every corner, from every nook and cranny, unexpected and unbelievable. Mobians, freedom fighters, the hardened veterans and the younger furlings, from every species and every path of life came trundling down the dirt paths and overgrown roads of the Great Forest to the Knothole celebrations and had gathered in their humble square.

Throughout the bustling festivities, they felt themselves dazedly moving through the scene as if they were happily sickened and saturated by the drowsy sweetness of their mutual dream. They danced and drank and set off snapping firecrackers and confetti poppers that mingled the flickering bursts from the firework display overhead with short spurts of colored bits of flapping confetti paper scattered in disarray. They stomped their feet and danced and rejoiced by the ever_-_burning firelight.

Old former guerilla soldiers swayed together on log benches, reveling in memories, garbling their old campfire songs and simply speaking drunken jargon for some. They clanged their cups together filled to the brim frothing with barely beer and sat sprawled and drooling, sleeping over the laps of others. The otherwise formal and reserved Ari guffawed among them, guzzling his beer. By the empty plot, Mobians rounded and danced carelessly by the fires to old folksongs with half_-_forgotten lyrics and only the familiar tune to guide their steps.

"Mah deah, I do declare, you got the feet of a natural_-_born dancer!" Bunnie threw over her shoulder to Dulcy. Her fair, straw_-_colored hair hung loose and disheveled and she had a sassy glint in her eye, as she linked arms with a sniggering possum.

"Hehehee!" Dulcy chortled in glee. "Hey thanks, Bunnie!" she called back, showing an immense white-fanged grin and unknowingly flinging her small partner in an arm swing, flailing and shouting into a nearby shrubbery. She skipped thoughtlessly outside of the ring. Unexpectedly, her foot caught under one of the sitting logs and she tumbled forward. Trying to regain balance in rhythm to the tune, she wobbled with the sway of the dancing crowd, swung in arms and sidled into shifting partners until she was so dizzy she knew nothing but moving circles and shouts. The dragon tottered on hind claws directly towards a score of hanging lanterns. "Yaaaahhh!!"

Her head clanged noisily on the metal and the flame gurgled in the lantern, creaking and rocking as Dulcy collapsed exhausted on the ground, her perplexed, juvenile tone wavering, "Geeeeeee.. I'm _home_, Maaaaa..."

Even the bonfires raged and roared in a volatile, triumphant flame. Between the blazing shadows, members of the Wolf Pack and those others that had habituated and traveled from the Great Unknown's deserted, canyon trails could be seen chanting and yowling riotously in praise to gods from the old religions and the natural forces of fate that had finally turned in their favor. They danced to the festive crackling, the heavy, hovering dance of the flames, inducing their senses with the burnt, intoxicating smells roasting up like heavy incense, stomping their bare feet by the piled twigs and debris set ablaze.

Bonfires had been situated in dug pits of charred logs and coal like volatile, enflamed pits. They simmered and scorched the earth and bit the ankles of their jerking steps. Lupe, shrewd and aged sat on a log recessed in shadow, her attentive features aglow with the dim, beating firelight. She contemplated her companions and blood_-_brothers as they beat the earth with their feet and faced the nightly darkness without fear, as they had once been in the old times. She sat entranced by the smoldering embers and flicker of sparks though her every fiber strained and quivered in tense anticipation and her voice ached for a wolf's nightly wail.

Suddenly the cracked yammer from a coyote shot upward through the resounding noise of beating dance and drum and everything fell hushed in the reach of its echo. Secondly, thirdly, fourthly, the group raised their voices in howls and yelps and moans and cries and everything else that thrashed and struggled primal inside themselves that they needed to grant expression.

Lupe, the wolf leader stepped forward to answer the call at the blazing inferno from the swathing shadows among her brethren. She arched her neck so her graying, raven mane snarled in its golden-ringed bands, draped down her back and allowed that age-old, grief-stricken ache from war and loss inside of her to finally sound into the openness of the star_-_strewn sky and lift from her old and wise spirit.

The surrounding Mobians in the main of the square raised voices in praise, eulogizing chatter and commending chants resounded over the grounds; light_-_hearted babble and chat traveled effervescent through the casual, interchanging circles between the crowds.

And there could be nothing more exciting to talk about and share with each other than their separate first_-_hand experiences from having partaken in the Doomsday_-_Prevention Mission. Dialogue ignited and sputtered out easily as firecrackers by the flammable, erratic spark of cheer and frenzied gossip and it caught the throngs by storm.

"I couldn't believe my eyes! It was astronomical!"

"Some supernatural effect... I dunno.."

"Did you see them_-_?"

"Naw, man, I'd been in the Sector Two Squadron..."

"It finally pays off, I always say..."

"...so much like that human..."

"Well, that final spectacle was quite a show, ey?"

"Pfft.. SWATbot defenders my tail. Yuh take one appendage, they all go down on ya like a ton uh bricks.."

"Oh.. naw, naw, naw, sir..."

"...its that dominoe effect, y' see.."

"Did'ja see that platoon lineup of SWATs? Jarek almost pissed himself.."

"Haaahhh.. poor guy.."

"Where'd yah see _him_ last_-_?"

"Hey! Ha_-_HA! Hey, how 'bout another round over here, 'ey!?"

"You drive an M_-_8 into a fortress wall... KA-BLAMMY!"

"It was one of these..." an inquisitive Uncle Chuck rasped, acknowledged the drooped metal_-_eating balloon that lay flat and deflated on Rotor's open palm for his interested inspection. The solitary two stood afar from most of the packed crowds, along the darker skirts of the village, inspecting the rubbish for left_-_over ammo and mechanical articles.

The aging scientist accepted it and turned the floppy, green elastic sack over in his deft hands. A slight metallic ooze slipped from the tear. "I've never encountered such a substance before..."

His lab_-_partner was only all too willing to lecture on it; he began to ramble eagerly, "See, its some strange kinda substance we uncovered near the river divide and the more tepid regions of the Great Jungle. Some of the flowering plant life there stored it in their pistils and then ejected it from the style when they sensed danger. It's got some unexplained chemical properties that I'm really hard_-_set on researching further, but I_-_I'm guessing it was developed by the means of quick and desperate evolution to ward off Robotnik's development of the land using mineral ore and robotics. It's a defense mechanism."

"Certainly, it's a wonder.." the scientist sighed, observing it in quiet awe. "These came in pretty handy, I'm sure."

"Its even better to see 'em in action..." Rotor reached into the back pocket of his dragging overalls, rummaged through and pulled out a single, full balloon by the tie. It rocked in his grip, engorged with the mysterious, pollen_-_yellow, glutinous substance.

Their last metal_-_eating balloon; the single prototype model he had kept for himself. He looked on it favorably.

"I was thinking I'd save it for research, but..." Examining the bloated sack in his hand, the small traces of a smile eased over his features and his slight, watery eyes glazed warmly in the dim firelight. His voice dropped to a low murmur, "I guess we won't be needing these anymore.."

Without further ado, the mechanic rocked back on his foot and flung the green sack toward a nearby small, disorderly stack of dented and warped metal plating. The balloon burst upon impact and the yellow, mucous_-_like fluid splashed over the debris, hissing, sputtering and spitting nastily until all metallic material dissolved away and evaporated into a consecutive surging gust of greenish, pollinated smog.

The old inventor narrowed his eyes; gray, worn metallic forehead dented into a furrow and he beamed at the destructive results.

"And I'll be long gone from this world before I ever need see another used again!" exclaimed Chuck, giving the adolescent walrus a hearty clap on the back, guffawing.

Beyond them, near the dancing throngs and the drunks guzzling barley beer, the Acorn guard, Antoine relayed his own version of an epic tale of valor and struggle in the Doomsday mission to a detached group of bored stragglers. "..and at last... I 'ad believed I 'ad seen zee worst ... I 'ad seen ze life flashing before my very eyes..." Antoine shouted in stressing importance, striking theatrical poises atop a flattened stone stand. The guard withdrew his weapon and the steely rasp of a sword being unsheathed sounded into the quiet. He ruffled himself into a dramatic posture.

"So I says HA! to _you_ and _au revoir_!" Antoine flailed the sword frantically, steel whispering in its slicing of the air, when the clumsy guard lost his footing and fell, ungainly, face_-_first for the dirt.

The small, surrounding pack of foxes broke into crude, yammering fits of laughter and drunken chortles and turned to move on, leaving their storyteller sputtering incoherent French cursing and dirt from his mouth and brushing off the staining grime from his elegant white and golden ceremonial suit and the now disheveled toupee he had greased into shining gold.

His head cocked up as a brassy female voice began squalling a patriotic song from a circle nearby. The French guard began to snivel. "Oh... sacre bleu.. it eez ze _hymne_ zat zey played at ze court..." He drew from tucked in his breast pocket a small, fringed handkerchief and started to promptly dab his eyes delicately. "Zis I listened to as a small boy in ze courts. It eez wonderful, no?" The coyote blew his nose unexpectedly, making a distinctly crude, blaring noise.

Suddenly, a skirling, glaring orange firecracker detonated, searing through the darkness overhead; the signal for a finale. It sent the crowds hustling and jostling under the hum of excited chatter down through the roads and dirt paths of the village to the square, magnetized to the central stage of their celebrations_-_ the briefing platform to praise and cheer their two figurehead leaders among the freedom fighters_-_ their Princess of Mobius and their speedy, blue idol.

Time circled and turned on itself in this place; hours passed disregarded; the excitement was palpable; it could be breathed in and inhaled and was intoxicating for certain. Sally let her eyes skim over the scene, drinking in this feeling, letting it seep and soak into every pore of her body. She took the moment to give the heavy exhale of relief that she had never before been granted the time to do, like she could feel the responsibilities and burdens that had weighed her down these ten years_-_ ten years of hurt, expectations, betrayals, missions, scrutinized planning, goal_-_setting, fears and doubts, everything, release from the tension in her muscles, the strain in her posture and raise her up to this view that brought visions to her eyes unlike anything she had ever seen here in this familiar place. The platform view encompassed every bit of the square and their bustling festivities. Shifting through the crammed square, she could see the familiar faces of friends and companions_-_ Bunnie, Lupe, Rotor, Antoine, Ari, Sir Charles, even Dulcy as the preteen dragon seemed ungainly in weight and size in a sea of Mobians who stood at three feet high, at most. She dwarfed those who stood in her shadow. She could see the mirth and genuine cheer in their eyes and hear it in their chanting outcries and the sight of it nearly brought her to tears.

_They are free. I am free._

The younger furlings bounced and scampered in fits of giggles, overtaken by their infectious giddiness. They groped the air with their pudgy fingers and claws, trying to grab the sparks and burning embers that scattered the grounds. She could see the young fox kit Tails frisk and caper and yelp in delight, trying desperately to catch the fiery red sparks that jittered and quavered and danced down in blazing trails like outrageous fireflies that seared fiercely through the darkness just to evaporate into drifting, sizzling particles of bronze and scarlet dust. Though the embers trembled then sputtered into quick extinguishment by the touch of their groping fingers, the furlings held the trembling flares cupped in their palms for that momentary joy. She tried to catch Tails mingled in the huddle of young ones and the exposing, scurrying flicker between light and shadow showed the genuine thrill beaming on his face.

A new line of sparklers were ignited and skirled elegantly in a smoking, flashing flurry, silhouetted ghosts of light impaling the skies, sent spewed and whistling into the night. A few distant winks wavered in the nightly darkness and within seconds of subsequent nothingness dissolved with an otherworldly thunder into a brilliant, white cascading of glimmering ethereal light falling in shrouded, heavenly trails of ashen mist and dust.

Maybe it was the ecstatic distortion of flickering light and the explosive noise and her own disoriented, elated feeling of euphoria that emphasized every celebratory sensation, that exposed the satisfied, amiable gaze from the slick, cobalt-quilled hero standing at her side. They stood together basking in praise in their moment of triumph and the electrifying ambiance and on the edge of some beginning that made her tremble in excitement at the unknown standing before them.

She felt an uncontainable thrill rise up in her like the godlike bellows could quake and crack and deface the earth, as if the simmering, electrified sting of ignition in the air could slice the air in two, like the firework crescendo could trundle down the stars. She let out a hearty laugh in spite of herself, turning to Sonic bearing a triumphant, regal smile. She caught his gaze; her heart skipped in place.

That amiable gaze. Something so unlike the trademark toothy grin and he meant it for her. She held herself paralyzed by the strong meaning of that gaze as if she beheld something precious like the glimpse of a falling star.

Sonic leaned in and murmured something to her under his breath. His warm breath brushing up to her ear made the chestnut fur on her neck bristle and the enticing sensation trickled down the middle of her back, but in the thunderous echoes and stroboscopic flash of light she could barely hear him nor mouth the words of what he said or maybe she did, but she could hardly believe it, provoking sentiments she was unsure to voice.

"Sonic, what?" She laughed heartily, almost shouting, "I can't hear you!"

Her freedom fighter companion beamed his dashing pearly_-_white smile and rolled his eyes and shouted something back that was drowned out.

Sally started to shout something back, the laugh hesitant, "Sonic, I can't_-_" Without warning, the blue hero whisked his princess up into his arms again and dove his mouth onto hers, gagging anything she could have said. By the magnetism of the Power Stones, she felt the power thrumming on her skin, flaring her fur and tingling in every pore of her body, surging by electrifying courses that seared her veins and into her mind. He knotted his fingers in a quaking, unrelenting fist in her hair. He felt it too. She knew that a dim, purplish phosphorescence radiated from their conjoined bodies as astonished, wordless sounds from on_-_looking spectators washed over the stage.

Eyes closed, head tilted upwards, explosive noise drowning out everything else to hear, celebratory cheers and hollers and delighted cries, the firecrackers and the euphoric celebration electrifying the air, the dazzling scintilla infused with soft light stunning the air all around and the firework crescendo exploding overhead, she tightened her grip, entwined arms encircling his neck, in a fierce, desperate passion, and wordless plead for him to taste her, taste her rapture, taste her devotion, to taste the fierce tenderness in their kiss, taste the words that she could not otherwise have dared to say.

To feel the rhythmic heartbeat pounding in her chest and to know, just to know, the truth between the beats.

Bedazzled by the vivid myriad explosion of color, light and sound, the celebrating swarms below erupted into uproar; their enthusiasm could not be contained. She heard the dynamic shouting that rose to a unified chant that reverberated from the village and struck the solid core to the trees and rustled in every leaf and rocked the ground with their stamping as if they put all their hearts and beings into this one cry.

In their united chant, they demanded, "Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! _Freedom..!_"

_- - -_

"Maybe we oughta just leave this till tomorrow, Sally," Rotor offered, tossing a metal article with a tinny clang to the littered grounds, regarding the collapsed banners, discarded confetti bits and firecracker debris now strewn over the emptied square. "Its gonna take a good couple hours to clear up anyway..."

The small group of freedom fighters, worn out and heavy_-_eyed, turned to traipse together from the square down the dirt paths to their respective huts. Everyone else had fallen in for the night and the other travelers had deserted the place and they stood in the middle of the ruins and scattered debris of what had become a night to remember.

The walrus reached up from being crouched on bent knees from the ground, wrenched his arms back to stretch and wiped his beaded brow beneath the brim of his bright_-_yellow cap. He murmured, "Never thought I'd actually be tired enough to _want_ to sleep."

Bunnie, her fair cowlick uncombed and one ear folded over her drowsy eye dragged her feet to stand beside them. She smothered a yawn behind her hand, but the second escaped between her cupped fingers, "Good golly, Ah'm about ready to hit the sack. How 'bout y'all?"

"Ahhh.. oui, _oui_, yes... sleep is to be a good zing..." Antoine agreed with a sigh, lagging alongside them.

"Aww.. do we have to go to bed _yet_?" Tails moaned plaintively, handful of confetti in his small grasp and bouncing by their side, chipper and eager for excitement as ever.

The blue hedgehog laughed and ruffled the young kit's already scruffy auburn bangs, "There's a reason why we've got those curfews, buddy." The boy gave the scene one final doleful gaze over his shoulder, but nonetheless trotted before them obediently down the same, beaten dirt road.

"I thought this day would never come..." Sally spoke hardly above a bewildered murmur.

Bunnie stepped beside her, yawning still, her southern slur thick as honey muddling her speech. "Well, we got plenty uh time to revel in it, sweetie_-_pie, enough time to have it wait till the sun's risin' tomorrow.."

Rotor said, "Now I think we all just need to get some good shut_-_eye."

"Hah, dahlin' y'all are preachin' to the choir!" Bunnie chirped drowsily after them. Sally stopped in her tracks, falling behind the rest. Uncertain, bewildered thoughts droned in her mind.

Her girl friend drew back to her, gingerly egging her down to the huts.

"Yeah, but you just get yurself some beauty rest, honey." She coupled arms with her girlfriend and patted her reassuringly, "It'll be all there in the mornin' ready for the takin'."

"Haha, you bet!" Sonic beamed, having that smile eager and raring to go. "Its just the brave new world out there now, ready to be had!"

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Antoine's Dialogue Translation  
1) "hymne"- anthem

_Thanks SO, so, so much for putting up with my constantly extended-deadlines, but I promise to do much better. This is rather short, but it sets the stage for SatAM S3 and is sort of a short bitty recap for those who forgot the finale with my own little twists (Ari being drunk for one, XD). Anyhow, reviews are always appreciated and I'm going to make it a dedication to the readers who do leave reviews to respond back promptly saying thanks and even review one of your pieces in exchange because, well, I think its only fair :).  
__Check in for the next more formidable installment- Lord Snively and the AndrOmecha Factor near the end of August!  
__Happy writing!  
__---Winnie_


	2. Ep27Pt2: The Unveiling

Post-Doomsday  
_- The Unveiling -_

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light..."  
-_Sarah Williams  
_

_  
- - -_

Utter quiet suspends in whispering air. A slipstream of winds sweep over the desolate, seething destruction left behind. The ruins of Robotropolis smoke and dissipate into sighing winds; they whisper secrets long withheld in iron-shod cells and dark and dank corridors. Iron-wrought weaponry and metal wreckage lay strewn over the gray crags of concrete and pavement. Smoke still seeps from the fissures in cement and stone. Odors of sour metal, exhaust, steam heat, decomposing poster glue, grit instill the air. All is darkness.

There is the sound of wrenching metal as a lift emerges from its undisclosed tunnel underground. An elevator slowly creaks to the ground level.

The slide panel whines open.

"_Ye-e-e-e-e-eesss_.." Thin, pale lips curl into a sly sneer, spitting a cold, callous laughter, a dry hysterical sound.

A small, scrawny lackey with a sheen of sweat over his pallid complexion and a grayish, blue sneer stoops sinisterly in the small, compacted space trodden with darkness. He steals covert glances over his shoulders, feeling his unceasing paranoia creep up on him.

"_The Big Round Guy…" _he says with a silky wrath_ "..finally let Sonic defeat him.."_

With one last sweeping look, he steps further out from the shadows, to be suffused in a pale moonlight that sifts through the departing clouds.

"_Weeellll, don't celebrate too soon, _hedgehog._ Now its _my_ tuuurrnnn.." _

The man screeches in a fit of hysteria, he whirls like a bat in his regal black and purple robe.

His shrieks warble in the night, "And I'm _not alllooonnne.._!"

Cackling, he unexpectedly feels a raspy, heavy breathing at the back of his neck, the undulating rhythm of a resonant heartbeat thrumming the space surrounding him, the presence of two eyes roused into consciousness blazing red like fire in vindictive fury. He feels his back burn, scorched by the ferocity of that gaze.

_Not-?_

Snively whirls around in a slight state of alarm.

The vision has vanished into shadow.

That raspy cackle, that fiendish glee, those burning eyes; the thought of his collaborator in crime here, his eerie presence, sends an involuntary shiver along his spine.

_An apparition sent to frighten me out of my wits, but I won't be made a jest twice…_

Nonetheless, dread has suddenly doused his cheer and a sharp awareness settles in; he is clammy and cold and suspects every shadow.But he can discern nothing of the dreadful gloom. Anxiously, he sneaks to the fortress under the dusky veil of twilight gray…

- - -

_D__arkness was never so sweet. For Snively, darkness had been his remedy for injury, his ward against all that would harm him, a secreting shroud, a swarthy sanctuary, a solitary asylum. Unwavering and starless. Some ubiquitous presence of a darker nature, one that revitalized him- one that gave him time, quiet, rest- all he ever needed or could ever want._

_It nourished his ambitions, allowed his bitter resentments and grudges to fester, his hatred spoil like__ to a cankerous rot in his chest, rotting away at something that might have once been a bruised, defeated heart__. It led him to question, to ponder, to plan and to scheme. It corrupted him, it enlightened him. It opened his eyes to a wondrous light and a terrible shadow. _

_Darkness was something unsettling, unnerving- a drapery to cloak sinister, harmful things. It cloaked what was needed to hide. It was a foreboding to what lurked within. _

_Still, it was in the cold, grimy rooms, pit cells and corridors of Robotropolis that the sniveling lackey- beaten and bruised and betrayed at every failure and every satisfaction gratified, had wandered inward, shaken and pale as death- a limp, walking skeleton, a defeated cadaver, emaciated to birdlike bones and sunken shadows and gaunt features and a soul worn cold and hallow- empty as a bowl…_

Snively contemplates this rueful past as he wanders down the dark, dank corridor, avoiding fissures in the floor and wrecked pipes spouting steam. Rats scuttle over the floor. As he descends deeper into the underground workings of Robotropolis, the air grows colder and echoes haunt the deepening darkness.

He conducts himself to the Great Hall.

The supremacy of silence hangs over the deserted chamber. Like all else remaining of Robotropolis, the Great Hall barely stands in dilapidated ruin.

The center of command; main database; base of operations. Home.

Snively treads cautiously into the Great Hall, across the narrow steel overpass running over a two-thousand foot drop into oblivion. Parts of the platform have buckled. Railings green and scabbing with rust rock unsteadily in his grasp. Cables hiss and spit electricity. Unsettling whines and groans reverberate throughout the chamber, the echoes of unsound metal.

Dr. Robotnik's former mantle is the center piece of the room, made the focus of a harsh overhanging lamp. His favored mechanized swivel chair positioned atop the circular dais stands erect and imposing, seemingly intact.

Snively approaches the back of the chair, feeling that all-too familiar twinge of dread. He half-expects to see the fat despot revolve in his chair, crimson eyes raging, quaking meaty fist ready. He titters at himself for his stupidity, clutching the arm and spinning it around to face him.

The seat is empty.

Snively rakes his eyes through the darkness, to be certain he is isolated from mockery or threat, about to revel in some forbidden indulgence. Grinning like a naughty child, he clambers in and sinks into the faded green cushioning that has sagged into a permanent profile of the morbidly obese tyrant it previously cradled. He fiddles with the handheld controls.

The main chair of Dr. Julian Robotnik, ruler over Robotropolis; the chair in which he presided over, managed and oversaw all activities in the empire.

_And he sits in it. _

Sitting there, the lackey is overcome by the sobering reality of his situation. Occupying the seat of his predecessor, taking up the responsibilities, the power…

This extraordinary empowerment rejuvenates him, nurturing a beaten pride; he snickers to himself and continues to inspect his surroundings.

The main panel to the CPU has collapsed in on itself; keys are missing, wires spitting electric sparks, the copper veins frazzled, feeble shocks of electric energy scurrying over the fractured motherboard. Remnants of data display gibberish paragraphs, scrolling unceasingly on buzzing monitors.

He mans his usual position by the panel facing the monitors, his bony fingers hover over the keys, some shorthand commands familiar to memory. He glances up into the nearest blank monitor, reflecting the pitch-darkness and his eerie image.

All he sees is a small, insecure man wasted away into untimely aging, balding save for a few carefully preserved wisps of fair hair. An apathetic stare, quiet and sullen, eyes ringed in insomnia shadows and purplish bruises, skin shrunken, blue veins like worms over the sharp, contours of his bones. He sees skepticism and sarcasm and wrath. He sees doubt. He feels his new-found self-assurance and poise diminishing quickly. He sees Snively, his old self.

Still, the darkness surrounds him… his secreting shroud, his swarthy sanctuary, his solitary asylum. Unwavering and starless. Some ubiquitous presence of a darker nature, one that would revitalize him- one that would give him time and quiet and rest- all he ever needed or could ever want, as it always had and would now.

Within the darkness, a wicked leer curls over his lip.

_That pitiable man is dead… it is _my_ turn…_

He composes himself, building resolve. Lord Snively glares darkly up at the monitor screen.

_And__like a worm from the bird-- something writhing and pale and maggot-like, crawling from the desecrated ruins, the vile, molding flesh of its host-- it feeds, nourishing itself like a silent assassin on the life of another until it has sucked its host dry, siphoned the life from its very being, drank the running, pulsing blood dry, to drive the body to collapse and the steady pulse to a dead, noiseless end. And now slithers, after wriggling itself free from the ruins, the carcass of its host. The infestation, the unsuspected creepy-crawler that thrived in shadow and burrowed itself into every nook and cranny, tunneled through every cranny and crevice… now writhes free.._

_Within the darkness, black as ink, squirms a pale, skeletal, wormlike man with global eyes of unnerving ice coldness, unwavering blue, murky and secreting an ocean of depths. The unveiling of the rightful sovereign over Robotropolis, Lord Snively.. the unveiling of a new darkness…_

_BooOoooOOoo! Spooky Snively! Haha, keep in touch for the next installment coming August 23rd!_


	3. Ep28: Briefing Mission: Brave New World

Post-Doomsday  
_- Briefing Mission: Brave New World -_

"One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it."  
-_Pedro Calderon de la Barca_

- - -

Sonic the Hedgehog trots out from the doorstep to his hut, yawning exaggeratedly and arching back, stretching his arms over his head. The hedgehog ambles down the steps, the deck trashed from the previous night's celebratory escapades. The mid-morning is brightly sunlit and cheery, sunshine burnishing the leaves, and the hot humidity of beginning summer stifling early in the day. The Great Forest is lush and verdant and thriving with life; morning birds twitter madly in the boughs overhead and squirrels chatter in trees. Dragonflies and small white butterflies flutter dart over dandelions, honeysuckle and lupine wildflowers thriving in the untamed undergrowth. The forest is redolent in the fresh, sweet earthen scents of upturned soil and trees. Sonic rounds the bend in the dirt road to the briefing deck near the center of the village.

He ambles over to the outdoor conference table where the rest of his Freedom Fighter friends and comrades have congregated around Sally and Dr. Charles. The wooden table is entirely covered with their unrolled sketches, maps, inventories and schematics.

The hedgehog moseys to the table, barging into the meeting and saying, drowsy and heavy-eyed, "Jeeezz.. you guys don't quit, do yah?"

The Freedom Fighters look up smiling, amused at his disheveled appearance. Sally, his cohort and equal at the head of the table, used to his daily antics and typical disruptions at meetings and not as much amused, only gives him her typical reprimanding glare and lets an exasperated sigh.

"Its nearly ten, Sonic…" Rotor remarks, chuckling.

The hedgehog groans, scratching the back of his head, rustling his quills stiff from sleep. "Err, sorry, heheh..… musta slept in."

Sally rolls her striking azure eyes to the trees overhead. Seeming keen to continue, she proceeds to recite through plans, "But like I was saying, moving through the D-zone gives us the clearest path to the Robotnik's fortress. Last the recon. team from the Eastern Freedom Fighters checked, some tunnels kept intact during the blast and…"

"Yo Sal, what's going on?"

For the first time since Sonic's untimely arrival, the ground-squirrel shows some genuine enthusiasm, leaning over her work in eagerness, "This is the briefing of our latest and most important mission yet, Mission: Brave New World."

"Yeah! Now we're cookin'!" Sonic exclaims, raring to go. He drops into an empty spot on the bench and slouches back, hands behind his head.

The sudden discomfort of sharing the bench seems to miff Antoine despite the general roominess between them, as he glances over at the hedgehog next to him in a grimace of half disdain, half offense.

Antoine peers to his unruly comrade, griping, "Do you to be _minding_?"

"G'morning, Ant!" The hedgehog laughs, tousling the French coyote's carefully combed blonde toupee. The guard squeals in panic, hands flailing trying to slap him away and mend the untidy split ends.

Antoine scowls unfavorably, but the hedgehog merely cracks his usual goofy toothy grin.

"This stuff is _mind_-boggling!" Dulcy acclaims, the dragon craning her serpentine neck over the immense amount of work strewn over the table surface.

"Sally, you are incredible," Uncle Chuck remarks.

Sally thumbs through the numerous sheaves of paper, "It took me all of last night collecting everything and checking it over. I researched every bit of data on Robotropolis that NICOLE had in storage."

"But there's still the data for worker-bot serial numbers, security locks and for the De-Roboticizer, especially…" Rotor, the engineer notes.

Sally nods, "..that can only be recovered from one source…"

"That would be Robotnik's CPU, his main computer at the command center in Robotropolis. It has everything we could ever possibly need to know," Uncle Chuck stated.

"I thought we could do some basic reconnaissance in Robotropolis to start," Sally continues, "..basically to assess the damage and get an idea of what's left. The rest of us can access the controls at the command center and shut off any back-up generator power."

"Yeah!" Sonic exclaims triumphantly, "Then slam dunk into the trash- Robotropolis!" He slaps his gloved palm down on the table, smacking dangerously close to Antoine's hand. The startled Royal guard huffs indignantly.

"But keep vigilant," the Princess cautions, "It _is_ still a war zone, remember. Based on Robotropolis trafficking systems, Uncle Chuck and I've devised a map displaying a couple of secure routes.."

"Maann.." the blue speedster moans. "Do we have to go through all this mumbo-jumbo chit-chat?"

Sir Charles probes for a response from his nephew. "Our work is far from over, Sonny.."

Sonic shuffles distractedly. "Well, yeah, I get that, but I mean... c'mon isn't there some kinda way we could pick up the pace around here? I mean... it just gets so.."

"Tiresome.." Sally interjects, understandingly, "Yes, I know, but we need to extract any data that we can from Robotnik's mainframe computer.." She shuffles through the documents, ".. to assess the situation before starting any restorative work."

Dr. Charles scans over the numerous, convoluted schematics of the inner tunneling system to Robotropolis. "I'm willing to bet that the city has changed tremendously in the last ten years or so..."

"Aww, I hope not, sugar. I miss mah old Mobo." Bunnie massages her mechanized arm thoughtfully. "An' I'm with Sugar-hog, I don't reckon I've got the patience to wait that long."

"Then the party's over.. its time we get crackin'," the old roboticized doctor said, chafing his hands.

- - -

"My Princess, I cannot be sitting in zis.. zis _automobile_.. I am to be _squish-_ed…!"

"Then scoot over Antoine, you're takin' up the whole dang seat!" Bunnie retorts, the feisty Southern belle stepping into the open metal-wrought mechanized car, seated beside Antoine.

With Bunnie hushing an uptight Antoine in the car, Rotor comes up behind them, lugging the weight of a heavily-stocked toolbox. He hauls it into the back trunk before clambering in himself.

The Freedom Fighters have congregated nearby two metal cars at the edge of the village, ready and prepared to set out to what remains of Robotropolis. Late afternoon sunshine burnishes the greening foliage, pooling lazily on the grounds. Lupe and Reynard from the Wolf Pack who provided the vehicles to trek through the wreckage, wait at a safe distance for them from the encroaching evening shadows.

At the edge of the knotted timber bridge to Knothole, their leader, Sally Acorn kneels down to her surrogate nephew, Tails. She smoothes the untamed ginger-colored tufts from his forehead dotingly, holding him gently by his bony shoulders.

"Just remember that if you need anything, honey, ask one of the villagers to help you. There are some fresh linens on your bed and keep the door locked.."

"I just made some blueberry muffins, if yuh'd like one, sugar.." Bunnie calls cheerfully.

The small fox kit glances despondently over to Bunnie, bowing his head glumly, "Mm-hm."

Sally considers him concernedly for a moment, then dimly smiling, gives Tails their cherished gesture, the funny kiss, planting two plucky kisses on either side of his face and one on his black, button nose.

Tails complies, though halfheartedly, his head bowed and twin tails drooped in the dirt.

The Princess frowns, troubled by his unexpected behavior, "Honey, what's wrong?"

The young fox's hands fidget, his feet shuffle clumsily in the dirt, reluctant to respond.

Sally rises to her feet, but hesitates turning down the bridge, considering her uncharacteristically downhearted nephew.

Her best friend, Bunnie beckons, "C'mon, Sally-girl!"

Sally turns at her friend's call and makes to her fellow Fighters ready at the car, but pauses at leaving her cheerless protégé behind. She studies him carefully then after the moment passes, she begins to trek down the dirt road.

The small fox kit's body began to sag, dejected and disappointed before his ears perk up to the familiar patter of two sneakers noisily jogging down the sturdy oak bridge.

He turns expectantly, "Sonic..?"

The speedy blue hero slows to the small, young furling, beaming his toothy trademark smile. "Hey Big Guy, what's up?"

The young kit shifts his feet in the dirt, his right tail curling behind him humbly. He pipes in humble eagerness, "Can I go?"

Sally feels a guilty heaviness in her chest, but cringes as Sonic's voice shouts confidently, "Why sure, Big Guy!"

She turns on the heel of her boot, hands firmly placed on her hips, "Sonic...!"

"What, Sal? I mean.. he helped pitch in with Doomsday.." he grapples his young sidekick into an affectionate, brotherly headlock, causing the fox kit to erupt in giggles, "…he came up with the mondo-_awesome_ plan finding the Scrolls _and_…"

Sally plants her boots firmly in the dirt, frowning resolutely, "Its _Robotropolis_, Sonic."

The blue speedster shrugs offhandedly, "So a couple o' SWATbutts might be hangin' around.. its no biggy."

"Sonic, it could be a _major_ biggie!" she insists through gritted teeth.

"Oh c'mon, Sal.. nothing's gonna happen. I mean, hey, he'll be with _me_," the hedgehog continues doggedly.

"That's the part that worries me," Sally mutters crossly under her breath.

Tails trots up to Sally's feet, pleading meekly up to her, "_Pleeeaasse_ can I go, Aunt Sally? I can do it! I wanna be a Freedom Fighter!"

Sonic leans down on his knee to Tails' level, beaming up at his ground-squirrel cohort, "C'mon Sal.. give 'im a chance!"

Sally sighs, studying their earnest faces beaming up at her, Sonic's goofy face lenient and grinning that sweet-talker grin, Tails' eyes bright and open seeing only opportunity. She looks up to the shelter and seclusion of the village and imagining the open, vulnerable outskirts of the Great Plains to dark Robotropolis. The Princess feels the bereavement for Tails' diminishing childhood years, the guilt of enlisting the young kit to their ranks, the rank of an adult, the rank of a child grown up too fast, to fix a world of wrongs, a Freedom Fighter and all that the label entails. To make this decision in this moment was to secure his destiny, and very possibly, his death.

Lupe's shrewd, jaded voice echoes over the grounds, sharp as a blade through her train of thought, "_Sally_.."

"Fine, fine," Sally sighs exasperatedly, eyeing Sonic sharply, "but you are responsible."

"Ain't no worries here, Sal!" the hedgehog says, mock-saluting her. His two-tailed protégé chuckles modestly.

She eyes him sternly. Though cross, the Princess turns heel and strides in pointed briskness down the road to the parked vehicles and the rest of their group waiting there.

Behind her turned back, Sonic snickers and grins to his young companion, high-fiving him quietly. Ruffling Tails' scruffy head, he extends his hand down for him to take.

The young fox, positively beaming, takes his older brother's open hand and clambers onto his shoulders, riding over his head, laughing. It is a bright, exuberant sound, something like to sunlight. They trek together down the road.

* * *

_Phew! Barely made that deadline I set for myself XD. Anyways, every R&R is always appreciated and keep in touch for a chapter in the making...!_


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